Titanic: A Life Journey II
by DreamUpAReality
Summary: Sequel. Continuing the Dawsons' life through the difficult years of the First World War, and leading up to the 10th year anniversary of the sinking. SAME AUTHOR - G.W.Failure
1. The Draft

**A/N: Hello to my returning readers! And greetings to the new ones who may have stumbled upon this sequel without having read the first book [in which case, I would recommend you do to keep up with the storyline :) ].**

**After a bit of a break, I've returned with an exciting edition to my series. Here's the very first chapter. Enjoy!**

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CHAPTER 1: The Draft

The Dawsons had paid little more than casual attention to the war until the United States became involved on April 6th, 1917. Both Jack and Rose felt strongly that America had no business being in the war.

Those already in serving in the military were immediately shipped off to Europe. Shortly thereafter, the Selective Service Act was passed on May 18 requiring all men between the ages of twenty-one and thirty-one to register for the Selective Service, or as commonly referred to as the draft. Jack knew he had to register as it was required by the law, but neither him nor Rose were too enthused. However, personal opinions meant nothing, and the draft notice arrived for him in the mail on May 29, 1917. Jack wasn't home when it arrived; he was working at the courthouse.

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As he strolled down the sidewalk that warm late afternoon of May, Jack whistled a joyful tune. He was in a good mood for no reason at all; it was just one of those days. The sun was shining, the temperature was just right, and he felt he had no excuse not to be happy.

Veering onto the short path leading to the porch of his home's front entrance, he smiled when he saw two small boys' grinning faces pop up in the window as they waved at him.

"Hello, I'm home!" he called, once he stepped through the doorway and set down his portfolio.

"Hi!" Rose called back from the kitchen. It was only four o'clock, but Rose was busy prepping a roast beef that would take over an hour and a half to cook in the oven. "Boys, settle down,"

"Whoa," Jack bellowed as his two boys unpredictably came colliding into his legs, hugging him in pure happiness of his arrival.

"Papa!" Paul squeaked in his small voice, jumping up and down at his feet, outstretching his arms expectantly. He was barely two years old, and he knew several words.

Jack tousled Matt's soft blond hair and chuckled at Paul's waiting arms. As he usually did, he scooped Paul up from under his arms and slightly tossed him up straight up in the air. Paul squealed in ecstasy at the weightless feeling until he was found himself caught again in his father's safe arms, and set back down on the ground.

Jack crouched down to their level as he had an arm wrapped around each of them. "What were you guys up to today?"

Rose peered over from the kitchen in the middle of her preparing the supper, only to find Jack wildly tickling the boys, despite their incessant giggling and protests as they squirmed on the floor. Rose smiled to herself and shook her head as she turned to resume what she had started. They were typical boys up to their usual antics.

Jack growled as he scooped Paul up from his waist and settled him under one arm, as he did the same with Matthew under his other arm. He walked towards the kitchen, carrying his sons like they were nothing other than parcels. They kept giggling playfully as children do, just as Jack bent down to set them back on their feet.

"You guys go play in the other room, okay?" he told them as he stood up straight again, a bit out of breath. "Hey, darlin'" he breathed, greeting Rose.

"Well, you certainly know how to make an entrance," Rose laughed, as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Mm hmm," he leaned into her and kissed her lips and then pulled her into his arms, enjoying the scent of her hair. "Looks like that's gonna be good."

She pulled back and looked over her shoulder to see that he was referring to the roast. "Oh! Yes, I hope so." She had become more than decent at cooking if one were to consider that she had only had her start at it not long ago. Her friends were to thank for her learned skills, and not to mention Jack as well. Rose turned back to him, laying her hands over his chest. "Listen, I told the children we would take them to the park for an hour once you got home."

"Sounds good to me. I'm gonna go throw on some other clothes."

"Alright," she said just before his lips brushed against hers. "Hold on," she stopped him before he stepped away, "I forgot to tell you that something came for you in the mail today."

"For me?" he pointed to himself. He picked up from the kitchen table the envelope that was addressed to him. He rarely got any mail. Rose turned to resume what she had been preparing earlier. "What's this?" he asked himself as he slid his forefinger under the lip of the envelope and ripped it open. Rose held her breath in anticipation of what they were to find out. In the back of her mind, she had a feeling she already knew. "Shit…" he cursed under his breath after a few moments. The once happy atmosphere in the room grew almost tangibly heavy.

It was the dreaded registration notice for the draft. All men between the ages of twenty-one and thirty-one were required to register a draft card at the local draft board by the fifth of June. At twenty-five, Jack was among the group of men, as well as was Fabrizio, and Albert. Except for Tony—luckily, he was thirty-three.

He dropped the telegram on the table as he muttered, "It's the registration notice." He let his hands rest on his hips as he stared at the folded paper.

"What are you going to do?" Rose was right beside him the next moment.

"I have to go in to the office like all the other men and fill in the card, I guess..." He ran a hand through his sandy hair and let it rest on the nape of his neck as he stood with his other hand on his hip.

"I wish you didn't..." she bowed her head, finding sudden interest in her hands.

"I know... me too."

"Well then, please don't."

He let the hand on the nape of his neck fall to an audible smack against his thigh as he turned to her, "I don't have much of a choice." What they were talking about would be to go against the law. It was a criminal offense not to register for the draft and was punishable by law.

They both were aware of the chances of getting selected to go to war after submitting a registration card. If you were in good health and you were not working in an industry in need of manpower, there were good chances to be called upon to serve the nation. The only thing Jack had going in his favour was his family situation, which in any case was common among many men his age: many were married and had small children.

"Rose?" Jack asked after a beat when she had not responded but kept staring down at her hands anxiously twisting her engagement and wedding bands around her finger. She looked up just as she had suddenly heard her name. "Remember what I said?" He put his hands on her shoulders, and peered into her eyes, trying to get her to look back into his. "It'll be alright."

Rose nodded slightly as she shakily took in a breath.

After dinner, Jack washed the dirty dishes as the children went to play in the living room until their bedtime. Rose had been quiet during most of supper, saying very little to him since he opened the telegram. He hoped she was not upset with him for going through with registering. After all, it wasn't his fault. She had to see that, didn't she? He thought that if anything, she was just lost in thought thinking about the situation in general. Either way, he could no longer handle her distancing herself from him. He hated it when this happened, and it only ever seemed to happen lately with anything related to the war.

"I'm gonna step out," he mumbled as he looked out the front window in the living room. Rose was kneeling on the floor next to the boys attempting to build a castle out of playing cards.

"Okay..." she said with uncertainty. It was not like him to just "step out". After work, he usually stayed home, unless they were going somewhere together. "Don't be gone long," she weakly added. Was he angry with her? Or worse—did he think she was mad at him? She knew she may have seemed distant that evening, but she had really not meant to. She was just so lost in thought at the mess that everything has become. She had hoped and hoped that somehow things would turn out alright just as Jack had said. But in the back of her mind, she had doubt. The state of the world always seemed to be worsening and it was not getting any better. How could he be so confident that things would be "alright"?

Jack eventually made his way over to Fabrizio's home and invited him outside for a chat. They sat on the steps of his front porch.

"Smoke?" Jack offered. He had bought a pack on his way over.

Fabrizio took one and leant in for Jack to light it. Jack sat back and lit his own.

"You get draft notice yet?" Jack asked, as he blew out some smoke from his mouth.

"_Si_," Fabrizio replied. They were silent for the duration of a long drag before Fabrizio continued. "If I have to, I will 'a fight for this country. It's my home now."

Jack considered Fabrizio's words. As much of a patriot as he was for his country, he could not fathom going half way across the world to fight for something he did not understand. That was, however, the least of his concerns.

"Fabri," Jack shook his head as he looked across the street which faced the West where the sun was just setting, "I don't know what it is, but I can't find it in me to willingly go to war... I can't even imagine leaving Rose and my boys." If he were single, that would be a different story. He'd serve his country—no questions asked. But he could not bear the idea that if anything were to happen to him—God forbid—what would become of Rose, Paul, and Matthew. It sent a chill up his spine by the mrere thought of what could be. "But you also have a family, and yet you're willing to fight." He turned to him and looked at him in the eye, full of bewilderment at the bravery of his friend. "How do you do it?" After all the years that he'd known Fabrizio, this is exactly how he only expected him to react—by fighting for his country. This part of his character blew him away. The only way he could ever fully understand it would be to have walked in this man's shoes.

"Let me tell you—" After another puff, he continued, "I fought to come to this land. Now that I am here, I have to fight for it. It is _my_ country now. This is the land I dreamed to come to." Fabrizio spoke with a passion in his eyes that Jack remembered seeing every time this young Italian spoke of coming to America while they were travelling together in Europe. Fabrizio was now smiling a smile that revealed no sign of fear or uncertainty, and Jack only returned it with a weak smile of his own that did little to mask his own doubts and uncertainties.

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"You were smoking," Rose stated once he returned about an hour later. The children were already in their bed and it was dark outside by now.

"Yeah," he simply responded. He had not moved since she started speaking.

"I can't remember the last time you ever did."

"Spur of the moment. Anyway, I gave the rest of pack to someone on my way back."

"Oh" was all she said. She looked at him for a moment and discovered no trace of him being upset with her. "You're not mad at me, are you?"

His head snapped towards her, her words grabbing his attention. "What?—no, of course not." He took her hand and gently pulled her close to him, to reassure her.

Rose let out a great sigh of relief, "thank goodness." She laid her head against his chest. "I was worried you were when you went out..."

"There's been so much going on. I just had to go think for a bit," he said as he lightly stroked her hair. "Guess this means you're not mad at me either?"

"No," she replied barely audibly. She did not know why, but she suddenly felt the need to say it, "I love you."

Jack responded by kissing her temple as he hugged her closer.

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**[A/N: So I screwed up the last chapter of the first book. I had Rose saying, "****What are we going to do if the U.S. does like Canada and imposes a draft?****" WELL. I just discovered some important information: Canada had no conscription until August 29 1917… almost three months after the States imposed the draft. So what Rose says is actually 5 months ahead of this fact. I felt this was kinda useful to know for the sake of the content in this chapter. (Oh, and I changed that bit of historically-incorrect statement in the dialogue of the last book!)]**


	2. The Inevitable

CHAPTER 2: The Inevitable

"Please, just don't register," Rose added amidst their embrace.

"You know that's impossible," Jack sighed. _Please don't start with this again. _He dreaded another argument was about to stir up.

"Not the way I see it."

He pulled back and looked at her curiously. "What do you mean? I have until the fifth of June to do it. You know I'll get arrested if I don't."

"We could run away." There was a sudden glimmer of hope in her eyes.

Jack looked at her as though she had spoken complete gibberish. "What?"

"We could just pack up and run." The more she thought about this idea that had just dawned on her, the more she grew to liking it. _That's it!_ Rose thought her herself. _This is what we were meant to do together..._ _make decisions on a whim, take extreme measures, be spontaneous, take off to the horizon whenever the need arises. _That would be the solution to get away from all of the mess with the war. "Think about it!" she exclaimed as the excitement rose in her voice.

But she was only fooling herself into a false sense of hope. If it had been himself and Rose, Jack would have been all for it. But things were different now and were not all that simple; they had responsibilities. "And just where do you expect us to go?" he crossed his arms as he tried to take her seriously because she was sounding irrational to him.

Rose was a bit taken aback at his uncharacteristic reaction to such a proposal. She thought that he would surely be onboard with the idea. "Well we can't stay here, can we," she pointed out, using the same scoffing tone he had just used. "We can go to Canada."

_If only it were that simple_. "No we can't." She was talking about something that would actually be impossible for them to do.

"And why not?" she raised her voice, annoyed by his lack of openness to this idea that she thought was the best option for them.

"For one, there isn't enough time. The registration deadline is in less than a week—we wouldn't even make it pass the border by then. Second, we have two small kids. How do you expect us to just pick and leave? They need stability; it's not the age for them to have their environment completely turned upside down. And all our friends are here. Do you really want to leave them behind?"

"Children adapt. And we have to do what's best for us." Rose knew it was selfish of her to think that way, but when it came to her and Jack, there was no way she could help it.

"Look, there isn't any way to get away from this—the war involves everyone. Sooner or later, you'll see that Canada will enforce a draft too. And then what will we do?" After Rose remained silent, he continued on a gentler tone, "I may not even get drafted after all."

"We can't rely on that!" She was exasperated that he would even consider taking that risk. "After all we've been through—do you really want to take a chance?"

"You don't know that, and I don't know that. But I'm not going to drag two small children along with us, hundreds of miles north, away from anything they've ever known."

With each day that passed since that conversation, the tension between them only grew. Rose could not see why Jack was being so stubborn. Out of the two of them, she imagined that he would have been the one that was all for moving away to another country, given his days as a drifter and his adventurous character. But she understood his intentions and that he was only trying to do what was best for their children. Yet in the back of her mind, she could not shake away the thought that it might have worked out for them to go ahead with that plan. And that's what angered her: that they had not even tried.

The day of the deadline could not have come sooner. As Jack came along their walkway, he saw Rose step out the front door. He could tell by the way she was looking at him that she had been anticipating his arrival. She waited on the porch with her hands on her hips. When he reached the last step, he set down his briefcase and stood before her, waiting for her to react.

By the expression on his face, she knew he had done what she had dreaded and what she had begged him not to do. Tears began to brim in her eyes as anger and hurt flashed across her features. Something was boiling up from deep inside her and she let her emotions overcome her.

"I told you not to!" she screamed at him, not caring if she was making a scene outside their own home. He could see how she was angry with him, so he tried to touch her but she only pushed his arm away. "How could you?" He tried to approach her again to comfort her, but she began pounding her fists against his chest in hysterics. "Why did you do that, Jack?" He didn't stop her. It was best she get it all out of her system now.

She was soon fatigued and collapsed against his chest, clutching onto his sleeves. "I love you too much," she breathed out of breath. _God, I can't lose you now, I can't! You're everything to me..._

This was the result of all that had been building up within the past week, and he just encircled her tightly in his arms. "It's not the end of the world..." he whispered in her hair. "I still may not get drafted—I'm married, I have two kids." Although he was saying this for Rose, he was trying to convince himself too that there was still hope for them.

Behind Rose, the door hesitantly opened to reveal two shy, tentative boys. He became aware of the prospect that they had overheard and possibly seen everything.

"Hey, you two," he pulled back slightly from the embrace to address them. Matthew took some steps out onto the porch with Paul tagging along. "Why don't you take daddy's briefcase inside and put it on the kitchen table?" He was trying to buy a few more minutes to be alone with Rose.

"Why is mommy crying?" four-year-old Matthew asked his father, seeing as his mother's back was still turned to him. His young eyes were full of concern.

"Everything's alright," Jack assured in a soothing tone, just as Rose turned in his arms and wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. _He may be only four years old, but he's not stupid. He saw everything._

"I'm okay," Rose added, crouching beside this sweet little boy who was the spitting image of his father. "I was just a little bit sad." She was trying her best to conceal her true feelings from him and Paul. They did not need to see their mother like that.

"Is it because I made a mess?" He was referring to how he had spilled a glass of milk on the table earlier.

"No," Rose laughed softly and brushed his cheek with her hand. "That was an accident." Matthew smiled when his mother laughed, all signs of her earlier sadness now vanished. She pulled Paul by the hand next to his brother and wrapped her arms around them. "Now I want both of you to do as your father asked," she reminded, and kissed each on the cheek.

They did as they were told and when the front door shut, Jack offered his hand and pulled her to her feet.

"Are you okay?" he murmured, his intense blue eyes filled with care.

When she looked into his face and saw the strength and courage etched across it, she wanted to cry all over again. _You're too good to me_... She loved him too much to ever be truly upset with him.

"Yes," she breathed in deeply as she tucked a strand of her vibrant red hair behind her ear. _For now_. Jack did not seem convinced. To assure him, she stood on her toes and laid a kiss upon his lips. "Let's go inside."

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**A/N: So I tried something a bit new with this chapter. I decided to add more characters' thoughts. ********This was inspired by a great author on this site, R. Dalloway, for her fanfic "Love Isn't Always Beautiful." Check it out. (Ps. Sorry, I didn't bring this up with you first, but I trust if you're reading this right now, you'll accept the credit! :) )**

**I don't know the exact term for the feeling that I wanted to come across as you read this, but I wanted you-as a reader-to feel a bit of closeness to the characters. I felt like I had maybe started writing in a bit of a distant fashion. (I think writing too many lab reports really makes your illustrative writing stale, HA! Yeah, it's just hard to get back into the mode... is what I'm trying to say.) SO anyway, let me know if this did the trick for you. (Too much of it? Too little? Just right?)**


	3. These Nights May Be Numbered

**A/N: I know how annoying it is to hear me say this (because I've said it so often before) but I'm SORRY for such a long delay! I was in the process of beginning to write this chapter when I got hit with! (wait for it…) DUN DUN DUN: writer's block! :O **

**Yep, it was the "writer's block" that did it to me. And no, not the kind where you don't have any ideas (because I have a whole bunch!), but the kind that gives you a hard time find the right words to begin with. For me especially, I've stumbled upon a few bumps in trying to piece my ideas and thoughts together, and finding ways to fill in the plotline gaps. And the summer's been so exhausting — what with training full time and with a job that just drains you. It was just difficult to get myself going in my little world of fanfiction.**

**So this is what I have come up with and I hope it's enough to satisfy. I **_**promise**_** to have something else up **_**soon!**_ **I don't have anything right now up until school which FINALLY leaves me time to unwind and get cracking with this story.**

**You guys are super patient and I appreciate all of my loyal readers!**

**Ps. This chapter does only little to further the plot…**

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Chapter 3: These Nights May Be Numbered

Since June, American men were gradually getting drafted. Every day, more men were being sent by train to military camps across the country, and then finally shipped overseas. Knowing this and witnessing it almost daily, the Dawsons could not shake off the feeling that it would happen to them next. By now, the mailman had learned to swiftly make his deliveries before he'd be the unfortunate receptor of threatening stare-downs from wives at almost every house on his route. And he understood perfectly because it was all for the same reason: no woman wanted to receive a letter confirming that her husband was called to serve in the military overseas.

As for Rose, she had moved on since her last confrontation with Jack about his registering for the draft. Although it had long since been forgotten, she was still vaguely aware of the possibility that any day he could get called upon for his service in the military. But she had always tried to push away the thought, summoning every bit of hope she had left in her that somehow his name would be over-looked, or that they would have found enough men, or that even the war would end before it was Jack's turn. She mostly kept these thoughts to herself because to her it had become a subject of taboo. Jack was trying to think more realistically about the situation and did not want to disappoint himself with a false sense of hope if that's what it would turn out to be. And of course, he never let Rose know his true feelings; if it took that little bit of hope to hang onto for her to live relatively happily, then he would let her have that at the very least. As long as she wasn't bringing up the subject, he didn't feel the need to either.

That summer was spent in bitter-sweetness. Despite the constant fear in the back of their minds, they made the best of each day they had together. They kept reminding themselves that they had to be grateful they still had one another and to keep living their lives to the fullest. It was admittedly difficult, given the circumstances, but they tried their best for the sake of Matthew and Paul.

Rose was thankful she had decided to take a break from theatre for the time being. That gave her more precious time to spend with Jack and her boys. Jack took advantage of any opportunity he had to draw every family moment. Matthew adored watching his father draw. He loved to see how his father could transfer a real-life image in front of him onto a blank sheet of paper by simply drawing lines and smudging them with his fingertips every now and then. Jack enjoyed the admiration and the company while he drew. Afterwards, he'd let Matt doodle on a separate sheet with a piece of his charcoal pencil. They were simple drawings as was expected from a four-year-old: mainly stick figures and other ambiguous subjects.

"You can give this guy a shadow, if you want," Jack suggested as he showed him with his own charcoal pen on one of the stick figures. "…Like that…" Jack whispered as he demonstrated. "See?" Matthew nodded.

"I'm gonna make one for this person," Matt declared.

"Sure, if ya want." Matt started adding a shadow to one of the other stickmen trying his best to use the same technique he had just seen his father using. He tilted his head up at him when he was done to look for his father's approval. "That's good. Now remember you have to choose which way the light's shining so you know which way the shadow points…" Matthew listened intently to Jack's teachings. He liked it most when he and his father took turns adding elements to a drawing, starting first from scratch and each adding one element at a time to a sheet of paper until the drawing became too absurd to add anything else. And that would usually be the point when would they end in laughter as they looked over what they had created.

* * *

Rose tossed and turned under the sheet. By the end of July, the heat of the summer was at its highest peak and it was nights like these that she particularly disliked because it caused her to wake up multiple times throughout her sleep. She brushed off Jack's arm that was slung over her waist and flopped over to her back, pushing away from her body her part of the bed sheet. As much as she loved being in Jack's embrace, she was desperate for any form of relief from the heat of the night that had caused her to wake up in sweats. After a few more unproductive moments of staring straight up at the ceiling, waiting for the air around her to feel cooler, she sat up and looked toward the window.

They had kept the windows closed during the day to prevent any more heat penetrating the house. However, sometimes it was cooler at night with the windows open. Although with the temperature the city had reached earlier that day, Rose was doubtful that the outdoors would cool down sufficiently enough that opening a window would be beneficial. Making her way to the bedroom window as quietly as possible so as not to disturb Jack, she pried the lock and propped open the window. Relief swept over her as soon as she opened it wide enough. She was thankful that it was gusty outside: a cooling breeze blew through the opening against her face, causing the delicate fabric of the drapes to gently flutter and dance. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply; she was satisfied enough to return to bed and attempt to get some more sleep. The room already felt a degree or two more tolerable, but as she made her way to her side of the bed which was furthest away from the window's breeze, it began to feel too uncomfortably hot again for her liking.

"Hey," she heard Jack murmur when his body turned over to face her side of the bed. He was eyeing her through one half-opened eyelid. "Can't sleep?"

Rose collapsed on her back beside him, now not as mindful as to the noise she was making since he was already awake. "I'm dying of this heat! Don't you find it dreadfully hot?"

"A bit warm, maybe…" he answered her sleepily, his voice partially muffled against his pillow.

_Just a bit?_ "Well, I can't sleep." _Because I'm sweating like a prostitute in church!_

"Maybe we can open a window," he offered. He hadn't moved against his pillow since he engaged in a conversation with her.

"I've done that."

"And?"

"It helped some."

"Well, it'll get cooler. Give it a few more minutes."

She sighed dramatically, "Alright." Two minutes must have ticked by and Rose looked over to her side, only to see Jack already drifting off into sleep again while she was unable to. "For God's sake," she whispered in annoyance and impatience.

She sprung out of their bed and made her way through the hall and down the stairs into the kitchen, hoping a refreshing drink of cool water would soothe her. As she filled up a glass, she noticed the covered basket of cookies she baked with the boys the day before and grabbed two.

She pulled out a chair and sat at the table as she drank a big gulp. As she took a bite out of a cookie, she noticed Jack's portfolio on the table across from her. Reaching over, she slid it across the surface towards her and opened it up out of curiosity and just to pass time while she finished her midnight snack. The first sketch she came across was one of the boys in the park, squatting down as they appeared to have been tracing something in the gravel ground with their fingers. The way Jack had portrayed it made it seem so lively that their personalities were jumping out of the page. He had knack for capturing the essence and the heart of life in such an inspiring way, even from the simplest of everyday contexts. He could bring the soul of a person out on a sheet of paper. She had always known it was his gift and she hoped that someday, he would get the proper recognition for his work that he deserved. Sure, contracts and other small-time sales he had made for his work were good and useful but it wasn't enough. She wanted more for him; she wanted to see him to be successful and recognized for his talent.

"Indulging yourself?"

She jumped in her seat and gasped loudly. "You scared me," she exclaimed, pressing a hand to her chest as she looked up at him. Jack chuckled at her surprise. "I didn't even hear you…" she lowered her voice as she flipped over to the next page of his sketchbook.

"Didn't I show you these ones already?" he leaned on the table, peering over her shoulder at one of his sketches.

"Mm hmm…" she replied, half-listening but mostly her attention was pulled back to his drawings.

"Whadoya think?"

"They're indescribable… as always."

"I hope you mean that in a good way," he grinned.

She looked up and smiled back at his remark, "You know what I mean. Shouldn't you be sleeping?" her expression changed.

"Shouldn't you?" he retorted without missing a beat.

"I was too hot."

"Well, I was lonely."

"And…?"

"You were apparently hungry."

She opened her mouth to get the last word, but closed it when nothing came out. Instead she made a pitiful attempt to stifle a smile until Jack chuckled again. "I was. But what's your real reason for being up besides being lonely."

"Well, there's that. But I also just wanted to make sure that you were okay," he said more seriously as he sat down on the chair next to her.

"What makes you say that I wasn't?"

"Rose," he began, with a small smile at the corner of his lips, "we've been married five years. Don't you think I'd know when you've got somethin' on your mind?" _How does he _do_ that every time?_ At a loss for words, she just gazed at him. _Of course, because it's Jack_. There was nothing she could hide from him. He placed his hand over hers on the table. "Talk to me."

She lowered her head, and her eyes fell on the sketch in front of her. "I'm afraid." Jack was not going to pretend he did not know why; he only listened for her to continue. "Albert got his draft notice yesterday and I can't imagine what Nellie must be going through. I'm afraid because I don't want…" What she could not finish saying, she hoped Jack would understand.

"You're afraid that the same will happen to me," he finished for her plainly. She was relieved that Jack had managed to read her mind when the words failed her. She nodded slightly in response. "I know," he sighed, "I'm scared too."

"Really?" she looked back up at him. She had never imagined him as fearful; he had always been her rock. He was never afraid to speak his mind, he was never afraid of what people thought of him, and he was never afraid to stand for his beliefs. She had been so caught up in her own feelings about the war and everything surrounding it that she had not had the chance to consider that Jack had to be going through some kind of emotional turmoil of his own.

"Of course. Leaving you and the kids is my greatest worry... Every morning, I'm afraid to wake up because I don't know what the day will bring—if I should expect to hear the worst for us. And I _don't know_ how all of this will turn out…" _And I wish there was something more I could say to make it better._

She looked at him long, her eyes filled with concern. Jack stroked the back of her hand with his thumb and it wasn't for awhile until Rose spoke. "Whatever happens," she began slowly, and Jack raised his eyes to look at her, "I want you to know that you did the right thing." She was referring to how he had gone ahead against her initial wish and registered for the draft. After having had weeks to reflect upon everything, she now realized that this was the only right thing they could have done, as much as the possible outcome would pain her. At the time, Jack had reacted quickly and had done what he felt best for the family, although it was a difficult decision. She now knew how hard it must have been for him to go ahead with something while she was so strongly opposed to it.

Jack smiled weakly, but the relief on his face was apparent. "I needed to hear that from you."

He put his arm around her neck and pulled her against him, a silent thank-you. Since their last argument, he had always carried a little bit of guilt with him which caused him to doubt if what he had really chosen to do was the right thing. He hated being on opposing sides with Rose, and that had been the first time. It was so important to him that they were in agreement with every major decision in their lives because the last thing he wanted was to have her feel the way she did in her old life: taken for granted, emotionally neglected, her opinions undermined, and her intelligence insulted.

"Come on," Jack whispered against her hair, "you should get your sleep."

She pulled away, her fingers laced behind his neck, and a small smile played on her lips, "You too." And she lightly kissed his lips.

"Fair enough," he stood up and offered his hand.

Once back in their bed, they lay sprawled flat on their backs, the heat of the second floor of the house overwhelming. Neither one of them bothered to pull up the bed sheet. As he lay there, an idea suddenly crossed Jack's mind. He couldn't wait until morning to tell her because he knew he would not be able to sleep at the prospect of seeing her reaction to his proposal.

"I was thinking…"

"What's that?" Rose responded in a startle, since she had finally just begun to doze off again.

"—That we're due for another trip to Santa Monica. With the kids this time." He turned his head to the side, searching her face for any sign of approval, and her head turned to face him at the same moment.

A smile slowly spread on her features when she registered his words, "That's a great idea!"

"Yeah?" Jack grinned at her reaction, pleased with himself. "How about for the weekend?"

"Oh yes!" she exclaimed, scooting closer to him as she wrapped her arm around his waist and squeezed him tightly, "That's perfect!"

"Shh!" Jack laid his index finger over his lips, and laughed at her enthusiasm. It would be a good change of scenery for them and would take their minds off worldly things for the time being, even if only just for a little while. "Alright, we'll do it," he said while stroking her cheek. "I'll tell the boys in the morning."

Rose's giggling died down with his laughter, and she was again aware of how warm it got. Part of the reason must have been that she was still glued to his side, her arm wrapped around his waist.

"All that excitement's making this room feel hot again," Rose declared.

"You wouldn't feel so hot if you wore less," he suggested plainly as he kept his gaze glued straight toward the ceiling.

"But this is the least I can wear," she responded with slight confusion.

"Who said anything about wearing _anything_?"

Rose turned her head and narrowed her eyes as she looked at him. "Wha—" That's when she realized he was smiling to himself. "Jack Dawson!" she playfully smacked his shoulder. He only laughed and held up his arms in defense.

"I was only trying to help," he laughed again.

"You rude, vulgar man!" Rose hurled her pillow at him at him.

"Well it's as they say: sleeping in the nude feels a lot cooler…" he finally turned his head and looked at her.

But he hadn't expected to see that devilish grin on her face, nor that mischievous look in her eyes. But what struck him hardest was the sensuality with which she spoke. "I don't know why I didn't think of that first."

The next moment happened so quickly because he could not retrace the events from Rose's last words up to now as her nightgown landed crumpled on the floor beside his shirt that he had discarded earlier. Before he knew what was happening, he felt her pressed up against him and her lips crash onto his. It wasn't long before he felt her fingers tugging at the waistline of his pajama pants while her lips found their way to his neck. _Not such a bad suggestion after all,_ he smiled to himself as his hands slid around her waist, pulling her even closer against him, enjoying the sensation of her warm skin against his own. Her trail of kisses continued along his chest and he moaned softly when her lips encountered a nipple. "Rose…" he groaned, the sensation driving him mad. Wasting no more time, he cupped her chin, gently guided her face back to his and hungrily devoured her lips. Amidst their lustful kiss, Rose melted against his body and effortlessly sunk to her side, pulling him on top of her. Soon, the temperature in the room intensified just as did the passion of their embrace, but neither of them cared in that moment.

They were grateful to be able to forget about everything else for even just a short while as they escaped into their own world. But later as Rose lay asleep and nestled against him in the afterglow of their lovemaking, Jack couldn't help but wonder how many nights like these—with Rose lying safe in his arms as they basked in each other's quiet but comforting company, lost in their own thoughts—that they'd have left together if the worst were to happen. He clenched his jaw at the thought. Presently feeling Rose against him reminded him of what was reality. _She's here now… she's here with me_, he thought and his earlier anxiety subsided. He gave her a light squeeze and lay a kiss on her shoulder after being overcome by an overwhelming need to thank God for her and this moment of peace together.

At least for now.


	4. Summer Currents

**A/N: I know what you're thinking: "It's about FREAKING TIME!"**

**Yup. Sure is.**

* * *

CHAPTER 4: Summer Currents

"Isn't it just glorious?" Rose sighed in contentment as she watched the waves tumble over one after the other in the surf. The ocean was rough out that day and they had settled in an area where the waves seemed to roll into shore with less aggression. She was leaning back on her hands and she allowed her head to roll back over her shoulders, feeling the warmth of the sun's rays on her face.

Jack was lounging on his side next to her in the sand, propped up on his elbow as he watched their children build what was now shaping into a sand castle. At the sound of her voice, he turned his head in her direction and had to squint his eyes in the bright sunlight.

"This was a great idea, wasn't it," he grinned.

"The best," she agreed. "I'm so glad we could come back to my favourite place." He smiled again before leaning in and kissing her softly. "Me too," he murmured.

She looked out again at the glimmering sea, how it sparkled in the afternoon daylight. She saw her children playing in the sand. Paul was dressed in the classic swimmer's unisuit and wore a sun hat to shield his young skin from the sun. Matthew was wearing swim trunks and a white cotton sleeveless shirt. His hair shone even blonder in the sun, just like his father's. She glanced at Jack and couldn't help but to admire the way the wind caused his light hair to whip around his face and he didn't seem to mind or even notice.

Rose was lost in her thoughts when she heard Matthew who was now standing beside his father.

"Can we bury you in the sand, pa?"

"Bury me? What for?" Jack laughed gently at the request.

Matt just shrugged his shoulders. "Because Paul won't let me."

Both Rose and Jack had to laugh at the reply. "Alright. Where do you want me?"

Ten minutes later, and Jack found himself covered from his feet to his neck in a large pile of sand.

"There!" Rose said, patting down the last pile of sand that she had thrown on top of the mound that they had formed. She stood up and dusted some sand off her legs. "How's that?" Rose asked the boys. "He just looks like a big pile of sand with a head!" Matthew exclaimed in laughter.

Jack tried to crane his head to look down upon himself. Finally taking in all they had been working on within the past few minutes, Rose was laughing with her sons.

"You guys think this is pretty funny, huh?" He could not help smiling either.

Matthew nodded his head and climbed up on the mound of sand atop Jack's body and Paul of course followed suit to his older brother's example.

"No, no, no, no, no!" Jack warned gently, "The sand's heavy enough!" he let out laboriously under the added weight.

"Wait," Rose laughed, "don't move!" She then turned and bent over to retrieve something from her beach bag.

"Rose?" Jack lifted up his head, confused as to what she was intending to do.

"Hold on," she called back as she pulled out her Kodak Brownie No 2-A camera she had just purchased earlier that day—which had been a bit costly, _but who can put a price on a picture?_ she had convinced herself.

"You're gonna take a picture of _this_?" he asked in surprise.

"Of course!" she said as she opened the front flap of the camera. "I'll want to remember this." She peered into the eyehole and centered the shot. "Smile boys!" she said before snapping a shot. Matthew was sitting with both legs hung on the same side and posed with his arms flexed as though he were trying to show off his muscles. Paul on the other hand was sitting in a straddled position, as though he were riding a horse. In spite of everything, Jack smiled broadly for the camera to humour them.

"That's it guys. Get down," Jack asked once the picture was taken.

"Not yet, this is fun!" Matthew exclaimed.

"Come on boys, get down now," Rose urged.

"Oh… okay," Matt said disappointedly. After getting down, he peered over his father's face in curiosity. "Can you move?"

"I don't think so," Jack faked. "Maybe you guys should help me outta this."

"Okay!"

But just as Matthew and Paul were close enough, Jack let out a dramatic evil laugh as he suddenly emerged from the sand in time to grasp the kids who in turn shrieked happily in surprise. "Gotcha!" They shrieked again. "You thought you had me stuck in there forever, didn't ya?"

Rose smiled gently at his antics.

After putting away her camera, she had resumed her lounging in the sand while Paul sat next to her, scratching a stick into the sand and digging holes.

"Let's go wash off the sand," Jack summoned Matt. "We'll be back!" he called back at Rose as he scurried down the beach with their son.

Rose nodded her head dismissively as she lounged backward, supporting herself on her elbows. Looking up at the sky, she closed her eyes and relished the way the heat of the sun felt as its rays beat down against the fair skin of her face and neck. A smile spread on her lips at the thought crossed her mind of what her mother would be telling her right now if she could see her. "_Rose—_" oh yes, she could her passive aggressive tone now, "_what on earth are you doing lounging about in the dirt like some… some commoner! And for God's sake, put on your sun hat and conduct yourself like a lady!_" How different her life was now with Jack; to have even the freedom of simply just doing what she was at the moment.

Rose was no sooner pulled out of her thoughts at the sound of Matthew's voice crying out: "Ma!"

Her head snapped up in that direction in time to see Jack carry Matt away over his shoulder down the slope of the sandy beach. Rose leaned on one arm and raised her other in above of her head to block out the sun and observe the scene more clearly.

"You're going in the water!" she could hear Jack tease as she watched him wade deeper into the shallow waters. All the while, Matthew was making his protests and playfully attempting to squirm from his father's grip.

"No, Pa! Please!"

Rose was curious to see what Jack was up to. Matt had not yet learned to swim, but she trusted Jack would not do anything too brash and be gentle with him—

She heard a squeal just as she saw Jack launch Matthew into the ocean a few feet in front of where he was standing, about hip-deep in water. All she could see now was a commotion of splashing and flailing arms, and all Jack did was cup his hands around his mouth and shout, "Now, kick your legs! Kick!"

At first, she was overcome with worry and shock at the way Jack had handled their young child. She sat up suddenly, still holding a hand over her forehead to shield her eyes from the sunlight. _They're just boys_, she had to remind herself. _Boys are used to playing roughly_. It could not reassure her racing heart as she could feel her motherly instinct starting to take over her senses.

"That's it!" Jack encouraged enthusiastically as Matthew began to actually swim. "You're doing it!"

After further observing the scene, relief washed over Rose and instead a smile spread across her lips as she realized what was unfolding before her eyes. Although she could not hear the exchange of words between the two, one thing was clear: her son was swimming for the first time.

"I'm swimming!" Matthew screamed in joy.

Jack was grinning encouragingly. "Now stand up," he told him. His son only looked back at him with a perplexed expression. "Try standing," Jack repeated.

When Matthew did so, it was only to discover that he could feel the ocean floor under his feet–although only in between the ocean swells because each time a wave rolled in, it caused him to rise off the sand until he could no longer reach. "Hey!" Matt giggled in surprise.

"You're only in three feet deep!" Jack too was laughing.

Rose felt her heart swell up with pride at the sight of her son swimming for the first time—and not to mention the way Jack had implemented his teaching, in spite of her first impression.

Jack turned to look back at her, and despite the distance, she could see that the joy on his face reflected her own. She waved her arms over her head to show her excitement and gave him thumbs up. In his own delight, Jack lifted Matthew out of the water and up on his shoulders. Matt waved back at his mother. Rose laughed when Jack suddenly dunked himself backwards into the water while Matt was still on his shoulders.

When the two resurfaced, Jack looked back at his son who was shaking his head to get the water out of his ear. "Wanna go tell your mother about how you swam?"

Done shaking, his face now glowed with enthusiasm. Matthew raced back through the shallow water and up the beach, Jack closely behind.

"Mama, did you see?" he exclaimed when he was close enough.

"I did," Rose mirrored his enthusiasm, as her arms welcomed his wet embrace. "I'm so proud of you," she said when he pulled away. "You swam so well, I almost mistook you for a fish! It's a good thing I recognized your father," she held back a smile and Matthew giggled in response.

"I want to swim like Mattie too!" Paul piped up at Jack's feet.

Jack knelt beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, "Ah, you'll learn one day too." He leaned in more closely to whisper to him, "It's not as hard as it looks," causing a grin to spread on Paul's boyish face. He then motioned with his hand for Matthew to come close by too. Huddling with the boys, they seemed to be whispering something and Rose could see the two of them eagerly nod their heads up-and-down.

When Rose locked eyes with Jack, she knew they were up to something. As he stood up and approached her, she could only stare back in curiosity. She was surprised when he then just sat beside her. She was expecting him to say something, but all he did was to stare out ahead at the water.

"So what was that all about?"

"What was what about?" he turned his head.

"Whatever you guys were whispering about," Rose half-smiled at him.

"Oh!" he feigned remembering. With nonchalance, he continued, "Yeah, well the boys and I were thinking it would be a really good idea if we got you wet." And just like that in one swift movement, Rose now found herself scooped up in Jack's arms, already being carried toward the ocean.

Meanwhile, Matthew clapped his hands over his mouth both in awe and anticipation at what his father was going to do. He took Paul's hand and followed them down the beach.

"What are you doing!" Rose exclaimed in his arms. He laughed in response.

"You haven't been in the water all day," he replied as he continued to the water.

She opened her mouth to try to protest, but instead Jack's contagious smile had her trying to hold back her own smile. "_Really_, Jack!"

"You don't seem to be putting up much of fight," he said, catching a glimpse of her.

"I had a funny feeling this would happen—why try to fight the inevitable?" she said matter-of-factly.

"You're just making my job easier," he grinned.

After a short pause, Rose added, "I actually quite like this part."

"Well you'd better enjoy it—" he replied as he started reached the water. "'Cause it won't last much longer!"

She squealed when she felt the water start to splash up and only clasped her hands around his neck more tightly. In the background, Rose could hear her children egging Jack on. "Throw mama in! Get her wet!" With that, Jack swung her in the water as she let out a shrill cry. The boys started cheering and laughing, and Jack turned to raise his arms over his head in mock victory.

When he turned around, Rose was wiping the water from her eyes. She motioned with her finger for him to come closer—he, still laughing. But he didn't budge on her command.

"Oh no—I'm not falling for that one!" he laughed. "You're gonna spit water all over my face like the last time!"

"I won't! Honest," she tried to convince him. "I just want to tell you something."

He crossed his arms and remained where he was, "You're just gonna have to come to me to say what it is you want to tell me."

"Alright, I will!" she replied boldly.

For some reason, she was walking with her hands behind her back but Jack dismissed that oddity the moment she was right finally in front of him. "Well?" he prompted.

"Oh, well— Can you check to see if there's something in my eye?" she thought up quickly, hoping Jack would fall for it.

"What, where?" It appeared to work.

"This one," she indicated to him by arching her left eyebrow. He leaned in and placed a hand on her cheek, pulling it down slightly to better see. Rose took advantage of the opportunity and placed a big pile of seaweed on his head—something that Jack had not seen coming at all. Most of it ended up falling over on his shoulder but it was still a worthwhile prank—not to mention, revenge—In Rose's eyes, especially with the sound of their children's screeching laughter resonating in the air.

Jack groaned in disgust, swiping at the strings of seaweed from his shoulder. All Rose could do was laugh as she watched him pick the rest from his hair. "I was trying to help you—that's not fair!" he exclaimed. But he had a hint of a grin on his face as though he had suddenly found the humor in their situation.

She was not in the least bit intimidated. "It serves you right," she affirmed, "concocting a plan like that to throw me in the water…" She moved closer to him and playfully ran a hand through his hair. "At least I got my revenge, didn't I darling?" Proving her point, she flicked a piece of seaweed off her hand that came from his hair.

"That you did—but it was still worth it," he smirked.

"Oh you!" she beamed, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Can we go swimming now?" Matthew asked from the shore.

They looked behind them to see Paul holding his impatient brother's hand. Rose raised her eyebrow at Jack, finding Matthew's demanding tone amusing.

"Yeah, here we come," Jack told them, walking back with Rose.

When he reached them, he lifted Paul up and spoke to Matt. "If we're going in the water, you have to hold mommy's hand," Jack cautioned. He glanced at Rose as she stood, "You're coming to swim with us?"

Rose smiled as she extended her hand to Matt who gripped it excitedly, "Of course I am. We'll all go."

Jack placed Paul over his head onto his shoulders. Paul squealed in delight and Jack held onto his knees to steady him as he walked in deeper through the rolling waves. Rose and Matthew followed alongside, Matthew yelpingevery time an oncoming wave splashed up higher against his small body. He resorted to trying to jump through them.

As the sounds of giggles and screeches were washed away in the powerful ocean breeze, another afternoon in the sun drifted on by.

They spent the entire Saturday in Santa Monica and stayed overnight at an inn a few blocks from the beach. It was late-afternoon on Sunday when they were getting ready to collect their things and to catch a cab back to East L.A. It had been a weekend full of joy and contentment, having spent quality time together and making new memories together doing activities that they would otherwise not have been able to do at home. A trip like this once in awhile was well-worth it.

The children were most reluctant at first to leave. Matt had openly proclaimed that it had been the most fun he'd ever had. However, just about as soon as they sat down in the cab, both boys were out cold from fatigue, much to Rose and Jack's amusement.

Another birthday for Paul came and went. Even more of his personality began coming out. His most distinct characteristic was his obvious shyness around others whereas his brother seemed more outgoing. Rose was not sure if it was something he would grow out of. Jack on the other hand was sure that he would – some toddlers were shy anyway, so perhaps he was not so unusual.

In early August, there was a new play the theatre troupe was presenting. Naturally, Rose was dying to see their performance so she had Jack accompany her to the opening night. She was happy to reunite with her old theatre friends and they invited her to the group meal they were hosting after the show on its opening night. Jack went along with her while their children were in the care of the De Rossi's. It turned out to be the nicest evening she had spent among friends in a long time. She was grateful, just as was Jack, for the distraction so that their minds could be put to rest from any thought of the war.

The following week, they read in the papers that Canada would pass a conscription law effective August 29th, similar to the draft they were experiencing in America. Not wanting to have an old argument resurface, Jack never discussed this piece of news openly with Rose. Although he had been right after all, there was no need to rub it in by telling her because their earlier issue was already settled and the point proven.

Albert was due to leave in two weeks, around mid-August. It was a sad time for everyone—friends and family alike—since they all knew deep down that it could very well be one of the last times they would see him. Of course, no one ever let these thoughts out in the open, but each individually considered it. Everyone treated it as though Al was going away on a long trip and they wouldn't see him for a long time—but they retained that regardless, they _would _see him again.

Nellie organized a group dinner between all their friends at their home. It was meant to be their last supper together as a group before Albert would leave them for the war. She thought it was a good idea since they did not know when they'd be able to spend time like this again with everyone present. The Rundells, De Rossis, some other of Albert's friends, and of course the Dawsons attended. Albert had also invited some other of his closest friends and relatives.

The entire late afternoon, there was no hint of sadness of any sort. In fact, people seemed to be having a good time. Some played croquet while others were horseshoe pitching. In the meantime, attendants that the Finch's had hired to cater appetizers for them were constantly circulating among the guests. The atmosphere was rich with enjoyment, a stark contrast to the actual function of the event. Despite the happy faces all the guests wore, both Jack and Rose could see through Nellie's fake smile she had plastered on her face the entire time. They both knew this was a hard time on her. Jack wondered himself if anyone else had even noticed her façade, besides of course Al.

Once dinnertime came, the once calm and happy atmosphere changed dramatically when Albert suddenly stood up to speak. This was only shortly after dinner had begun; he held a glass of red wine in his right hand.

"I'd like to have everyone's attention." He paused, momentarily. "Thank you. This won't take too long because I know how hungry you all must be by now." Soft chuckles rumbled around the table. Albert smiled before continuing. "Today has been one of the most wonderful days I've spent. I'm grateful that you all could come, and I've had the pleasure of sharing this memory with you. It has undoubtedly been a privilege knowing each of you. It makes me happy to know that I'll be returning one day – how far away from this day, I don't know for certain – returning to the most wonderful friends a man could ask for. This toast is in honour of all of you." He raised his glass and everyone followed his lead. "Thank you all for being here."

No eye in the room was left without moisture.

Later that evening, all the guests had migrated to the atrium of the large home. Soft music could be heard throughout, coming from the few hired musicians. Albert motioned to Rose that he meant to speak with her. Jack was mingling with a group of people from Albert's side of the family who seemed to take a great deal of interest in this genuine down-to-earth personality—it reminded Rose of how the first class had taken to him during the he was invited to on the _Titanic_. Once away from the noise of the party, Albert looked at Rose very seriously. Rose suddenly felt disconcerted by this person that she for a moment did not recognize. There was an intensity of his dark gloomy eyes. He must have noticed her reaction because he looked away and stepped back.

"The reason," he began slowly, "I brought you here is to ask you a favour." He glanced back at her to see her reaction.

"Alright…" Rose urged him, unsure as to what he would ask.

"You know I'm leaving in less than two weeks. Nellie will be all alone—"

"If you're asking that I look out for her, I'd have done it all the same without your asking," Rose smiled reassuringly.

"Yes…" he laid a friendly hand on her shoulder, "I know you've been a true friend to Nellie. You've known her longer than I have." His smile wavered as he let his hand drop back to his side before resuming his pacing. "Now I've been trying to be honest with myself. The chances of me returning home… are slim."

Rose's eyes darted toward him in attention. "Albert," she sounded startled. "You don't know that."

The corner of his mouth curled up in a half-hearted attempt to lighten the subject, "Let's not lie to ourselves. I know it and you know it."

Sadness grew in Rose's eyes at a truth she had not wanted to admit to herself. Albert saw the wetness in the corner of her eyes and approached her to lay both hands on her shoulders this time. "I'm asking you that if anything should happen, you just be there for my Nellie."

Rose stared long into this defeated man's eyes before her simple reply came out in a quiver. "Of course."

He smiled his famous smile and pulled her into a friendly hug.

They returned among the guests. Rose made her way over to Jack who was now by the table of refreshments and she laid a kiss on his cheek. She wasn't sure why, but maybe it was her subconscious' way of saying just how thankful she was that she still had her own husband with her.

"So what was that all about?" Jack motioned with his wine glass to where she had been with Al.

She leaned in towards his ear, "I'll tell you all about it later." He nodded his head "O.K."

He then noticed in her eyes the faintness of tears that had dried not long ago. "You alright?" He looked at her a bit suspiciously.

"I'm fine," she swallowed and then smiled with reassurance.

He stepped closer and rubbed her arm with his free hand.

"You sure?"

She leaned in quickly and discreetly pecked his cheek. "Yes."

* * *

**A/N: More to come, I promise.**


	5. Nothing's Ever Definite

**A/N: Betchya thought I totally forgot about this story! Nah, I'm still kickin' around. **

**A HUGE thanks to Frieda van den Huetten for beta-ing this chappie! (Not to mention, suggesting a fitting title!)**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter 5: Nothing's Ever Definite

September 28th, 1917

It was a quiet afternoon at the Dawson home. Matthew would not have to be picked up from school for another hour and Paul was napping upstairs. The warm afternoon sunrays spilled through the lacy decorative drapes of the large parlor room window. Rose was sitting on the sofa, her latest collection of photographs laid before her on the coffee table, ready to sort through for her next scrapbook.

As she scanned over the photos, she saw the two they took in Santa Monica not too long ago: one was at the beach with Jack and the children and the second one was the four of them standing on the pier with the rollercoaster and Ferris wheel in the background.

Next, her eyes fell upon a particular one of Albert. It was from the night of the last party they had had in which she had asked another guest to use her camera to snap a shot of herself, Jack, Nellie, and Albert together. They all looked so happy that night, despite the circumstances. It was hard to believe that only a week and a half later, Albert left on a train, unknowing of what fate would have in store for him.

Rose recalled the week following that event. It took a few days after Albert was gone that she was finally able to talk Nellie in to getting out and about again. Nellie had not left the house since, and that greatly troubled Rose. She understood that Nellie needed her space and time alone to reflect, but at the same time, it wasn't good for her. Rose wanted to let her friend know that she was there for her with an open heart, ready to listen to what she would have to unburden herself with. At most, Rose only asked her come out to get together at her place for coffee, which Nellie finally managed to do.

* * *

_Rose set cut-up chunks of apple in a small bowl on the tray of Paul's high chair, and Paul began munching on a piece. Rose smiled gently and smoothed back his light brown hair._

"_My, don't we have a hungry boy?" Nellie observed in amusement._

_Rose nodded her head in regard as she poured out their coffees, "Oh yes, it's his favourite snack."_

"_I can see that," Nellie giggled. _

"_Sugar?"_

"_You know me."_

_Rose sat down across from her, setting down their cups at the same time. A moment of silence ticked by, save for the happy crunching heard at Paul's end of the table._

"_I'm sorry," Nellie stirred at the sugar that was stubborn to dissolve at the bottom of her cup of coffee. "I'm not much company today, am I."_

_After a careful sip of the steaming liquid, Rose set her cup down. "Don't be sorry. I'm just glad to see you finally out," Rose rested her hand on her forearm._

_Nellie looked up at her wearily and made a first real attempt in a while to smile. "Oh, I don't know what's the matter with me, Rose," Nellie sighed. "I feel so hopeless."_

"_I understand, but think about what Al would say. Would you want him to see you like this? Miserable?" Nellie calmly shook her head. "Right. Now this may just be me… but I suggest you get out of that house for a while and take a vacation somewhere." Nellie looked up at Rose at the suggestion and her eyes faintly lit up. "Maybe see your family out east—anything. You need a nice break."_

"_Do you really think I should?" Nellie innocently asked._

"_Why not—what have you got to lose? I think it will only do you good," Rose gave a firm nod of her head and smiled._

"_Yes…" she appeared to be contemplating the idea seriously. "Yes, I believe that's what I'll do." _

_Rose beamed, "Good. You'll see! And then you'll thank me!" Nellie let out a laugh in return._

"_All done, mama," Paul smiled toothily, raising his favourite teddy bear over his head in happiness. _

"_Still holding on tight to that teddy bear, I can see," Nellie noticed, smiling at him._

"_Yes, ever since Jack gave it to him on his birthday."_

_The dull ache in her heart from something she so yearned to have only intensified the longer she admired him. Tears began to glisten in her eyes. Before Rose knew what was happening, Nellie abruptly excused herself from the table. "I'm sorry, I'm not feeling well," her voice wavered as she left for the bathroom._

_Rose frowned in concern as she set Paul down on the ground before following Nellie._

_She lightly tapped her fingers on the closed bathroom door, "Nellie? What's the matter?" There was no answer. The only sound Rose now heard was Nellie blowing her nose on the other side of the door. "Nellie, open the door please," Rose gently urged her. "Tell me what's on your mind."_

_Slowly, the bathroom door opened, revealing Nellie with tear-stained cheeks, and strands of her orchard brown hair now hanging loosely at the sides of her face. "Oh Rose," she went to her and hugged her._

"_Come, now," Rose soothed. "Let's go sit in the parlour room." On her way there, Rose told Paul to get his picture books to keep him busy. "Go on, you know where they are." Once in the parlour room there, Rose urged Nellie again. "Now, talk to me."_

"_I just—" Nellie sniffed. "I so badly wanted to give Albert a child... Then seeing your Paul, and realizing Al's gone..." she choked up. "Oh God, Rose, I was never able to give him that," she cried._

_Rose took Nellie's hand and looked at her in the eyes. "He's not gone forever, Nel. Nothing's ever definite." _

_Nellie's eyebrows were arched upwards in her grief, her cheeks wet from earlier tears. Her lips were pressed tightly together until she spoke. "We have been trying to have children since we were married." She inhaled a shaky breath. "I should have been able to give him a child, but I couldn't. And now there's a possibility he isn't... he will not..." she couldn't finish her sentence._

"_Don't you even think that, you hear me," Rose asserted. "Albert is smart and strong. He loves you with all his heart and he will give everything he has in him to get back to you safely."_

_Nellie smiled weakly, "I know." She looked at Paul who was sitting on the floor with his knees bent and legs rotated outward from his body. His teddy bear lay at his side as he named the pictures he observed in his book out loud to himself._

"_You're very fortunate, Rose," Nellie said as she observed Paul. "To have two beautiful boys." Rose gazed at Paul—she had to agree. She could not imagine what it must be like to want children so much and for it to be so difficult to get just that. "Sometimes," Nellie continued, "when I see you with your boys, I get envious." Rose looked at Nellie, at a loss for words. "I know, it's silly…" Nellie looked down at her hands, twisting her wedding band around her finger._

"_No, it isn't. I really believe it will happen for you and Albert…" Rose paused, having trouble finding just the right words to tell her. "You just have to give it more time, and be patient—"_

_Nellie's head shot back up. "It's easy for you to say when your husband hasn't been sent overseas," she said defensively, "when you don't need to worry about whether you'll ever see your husband again."_

"_I understand," Rose tried to calm her down, keeping an even tone._

"_No, I don't think you do," Nellie spoke with every feeling of bitterness she had hanging on every word. Her voice broke, "I live in torture whenever I see mothers with their children. Do you know what it's like to feel like less of a woman?"_

"_Nellie," Rose uttered, stunned at her disclosure. She had never truly grasped the depth of her pain until now, and she felt hurt for her. Tears glistened in the corners of her friend's eyes, close to spilling over. She pulled her into a hug. "I had no idea."_

"_I'm sorry for raising my voice." "Shh, it's alright," Rose soothed. "I just miss him so," Nellie whispered, trying to hold back her tears._

_As Rose silently comforted her dear friend, the household became quiet, save for the faintness of Paul's voice._ "A green choo-choo train, with a giraffe, a' elephant, a lion, and a zebra in the back wagon..."

* * *

Scanning through the rest of the photos, Rose's eyes rested on one that was taken just a few weeks ago. It was Matthew standing outside on the porch with his little knapsack on and well-kept hair. It was a moment in time that she would never forget: her first child's first day of school.

* * *

_It was early morning and Rose had Matthew sitting on the kitchen counter while she gave his attire final adjustments. Jack came up behind her._

"_Rose, he looks fine. Will you stop that, now?" She had been fixing him up most of the morning and Jack felt that it was starting to become a bit excessive._

"_I know… I just want to make a good first impression." She finally turned to look at Jack._

"_He's in kindergarten," he said quite matter-of-factly._

"_Well, even so," she turned back to Matt._

_Quickly siding with his father, Matthew chirped, "I'm ok mama."_

_She smiled and lifted him off the table to set him down. He ran off to the front door and put on his small school bag._

"_There, you hear that?" Jack insisted._

_Rose only rolled her eyes at him and took his arm with her to the front door where Matthew was already. "Come. Let's take him to meet his teacher."_

"_C'mon, Paul." Jack's voice held a certain paternal tranquility as he lifted his son from his seat at the kitchen table._

_They were out the front door and about to walk down to the sidewalk when Rose instructed Matthew to remain on the porch as she lifted up her camera._

"_No silly faces, Matt," Rose warned._

"_Oh, Ma!" he complained impatiently._

"_This is a serious picture," she added. "Uncross your arms," she directed, "look this way, Matty—"_

_SNAP!_

_Upon seeing his mother lower the camera, Matthew skipped down the stairs now ahead of both his parents. "Let's go!"_

_Jack turned to Rose, raising his eyebrows in amusement at their son's eagerness._

_And so, that was how the Dawson's took off to school on their first child's first day: Jack carrying Paul in one arm on his hip, while Matthew walked between him and Rose, holding his mother's hand._

"_It's so big," Matthew awed as he looked up at the school building while walking up the steps to the main entrance._

"_Sure is," Jack agreed. "Let's have a look inside." Jack started up the stairs with Rose, but Matthew stayed glued at the steps, still staring up at the building. Jack stopped and turned. "Hey come on, I thought you wanted to go to school," he urged, almost poking at Matt's earlier eagerness._

"_But it's just so… big," he repeated, unable to adequately describe what he was feeling towards this whole "going to school" business._

"_I know," Jack set Paul down who went to his mother's side. "It might seem a little scary at first, but it really isn't so bad. You'll learn lots, you'll get to do lots of fun things and make lots of friends," he stuck out his hand and Matthew reluctantly took it. "I hear they've got drawing too…" one could hear Jack's voice as the school doors closed behind him and his family._

_Fifteen minutes later, Jack, Rose, and Paul came out the front door._

"_That was a bit hard on him, I think," Jack commented as he made his way down the steps holding onto Paul's hand. Matthew had experienced a bit of separation anxiety when his parents were first leaving. But after Rose and Jack talked to him soothingly, and his teacher introduced him to a drawing activity with another classmate, he seemed distracted from his earlier worries. It was enough for his parents to slip out of the classroom quietly._

"_You know, when he finally notices we're gone, he's gonna start up again. I can't help but feel guilty for leaving him like that—I mean, don't you?" Rose seemed distressed._

"_He'll be fine," Jack looped his free arm around her waist reassuringly. "'Sides, Mrs Reid said it was normal for him to act like that on the first day. A few more days like that and he'll get over it."_

"_And soon, I hope. Anyway, it was hard just to let go, for me I mean," Rose sighed. "It will certainly be strange not to have him around during the day anymore, you know—taking care of him."_

"_I know, darlin'," he sympathized in understanding, kissing her temple, "I know."  
_

* * *

Since then, Jack had been taking Matthew to school in the mornings on his way to work. Afternoons, Rose was the one to pick him up. Since the Rundell children attended the same school, they would walk back together if neither family had to run an errand on the way home.

The front door handle jiggled, pulling Rose's focus from her photos and memories.

"Hey you," Rose greeted from the couch when she heard the door push open. Tapping the set of photos in her hand against the table to straighten them, she put them down and rose to her feet.

"Hi yourself, beautiful," he retorted playfully when he found her in his arms. It did not matter how many times he called her that, she would always blush and try to hold back a smile.

"You're home early," she stated, looping her arms around his waist, followed by a quick kiss on the lips.

"Yeah," he released her and made his way toward the kitchen. "The court session ended quickly today—"

"Do you have to go back?" she called from the parlour room, resuming her position in front of her photographs and the unfinished album.

"No," he replied, picking up the small pile of the day's mail on the kitchen table. "Done for the day." He was muttering now, his attention switched to sifting through the envelopes.

"Paul's still napping and I'm going to pick up Matt soon from school. You'll need to wake him up soon so he actually sleeps through the night tonight. Alright?" Rose called a few moments later from where she was.

"Uh…" he started faintly. His mind was busy reading through the names on the envelopes; then his eyes landed on an envelope with a familiar sender. When her words registered, he answered somewhat with a distracted "yeah…"

Rose noticed his absent-minded reply. "Oh Jack…" she called again, her tone with a hint of teasing in it. "Did you hear me? What are you doing over there anyway?" She could hear footsteps approaching the doorway. He appeared there with a sealed envelope in his hands and a look of bewilderment on his face.

"I don't believe it!" He had the biggest grin on his face as he waved the envelope in the air.

"What are you talking about?"

"It's a letter from Morgan Gibbs."

"_Who_?" As much as she wanted to participate in the excitement, she felt totally out of the loop with what exactly it was Jack was making a fuss about.

"Remember that man we met last month at the art gallery? The one in Santa Monica?" Jack found it astonishing that they had two of his pieces from one of his former collections in the gallery; apparently the owner had purchased some of his pieces at an art show where his entire collection had been on display.

"Oh yes! _Morgan Gibbs_!" She said with emphasis, as though the name now held a new meaning.

"Well!" Jack said enthusiastically and then proceeded to rip through the seal and read the first few lines to her. "Dear Mr. Dawson, after witnessing the success of your art in our gallery, we would like to request—" Jack's voice trailed off and his face held an expression Rose could not interpret.

"Well, what _is_ it?" Rose asked in anticipation.

He lowered the sheet and looked back up at her, an incredulous expression on his face. "They want me to make another collection. They want at least twenty-four pieces."

"Oh Jack, that's wonderful!"

He took her hands and pulled her from the couch and pulled her close. He was so fast, Rose was left nearly dazed.

"Do you know what this means?" He did not even wait for an answer. "It means more money."

"Since when have we ever cared about money?"

The corner of his mouth curved, "You're right."

"And it also means more work for you."

"But I love art."

"You do," she agreed, settling on that.

With that, Jack had to smile at her and felt the need to kiss her right there, he was so excited.

* * *

Later that evening, there were several quick knocks at the front door.

"Jack," Fabrizio breathed when the door.

"Hey, what brings you—" Jack stopped himself when Fabrizio stuck out his hand, a trembling sheet of folded paper gripped between his fingers. He took the slip, slowly. Unfolded it. Read it carefully. Only seconds later, the pager gracefully descended through the air to the ground. In that same moment, took his friend by the shoulders and tightly embraced him. "This can't be happening…" he whispered.

"It is my time," Fabrizio simply uttered, his voice thick with courage, but a hint sorrow was mixed in it too.

"Fabri?" Rose appeared in the hall. Fabrizio smiled gently at her from the embrace before pulling away. Rose could tell something was wrong. Jack was not his usual, and Fabrizio rarely dropped by like this at this hour.

"Come on in," Jack said weakly, holding back his grief. He shut the door behind them.

"Jack, tell me what's going on," Rose urged, sensing something dreadful from the tone in the room. Jack never said anything and looked at Fabrizio instead. Fabrizio approached Rose, stopping just in front of her. She searched his eyes for some kind of confirmation. "They're sending you to war," she swallowed, "aren't they?"

She already knew the answer. Her eyes welled up. Upon seeing this, he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. His warm brown eyes were filled with a tranquility she could not understand.

"Don't be sad for me, bella," he smiled faintly. "I can take care of myself."

"Oh Fabri…" Rose let the tears roll freely and she threw her arms around him. He held her briefly.

"Come on," he ushered. "Let's a' sit for a while. I'd like to spend some time with my friends."

They took seats in the parlour room. Fabrizio glanced at the few exposed photos that were still in a small pile on the table and had to smile.

"When are you being sent off?" Jack spoke.

"They say, October twenty. A Saturday."

Rose frowned, "My God, that's in less than a month!"

They allowed this information to sink in as silence hung in the room. For a long moment, no one knew quite what to say.

"…When did you find out?" Jack managed to say.

"Just today, when I got home," he replied, turning his attention to Jack.

"How is Sophia taking it? Anna…?" Rose asked.

She had been the first person to find out about it, of course, along with his mother. They had both accepted it, albeit sadly. Sophia had maintained her composure in front of him, but his mother was the one to break down crying. He had tried to comfort her, but she'd told him she would be alright, that she just needed to lie down in bed for a moment. Sophia helped her to her room once she had settled down. That was when Fabrizio had decided to leave the house. He felt he needed to it was his duty to also notify his best friends about the news. He also just wanted to escape the grief in his own home; it wasn't making it any easier on him. He kissed Sophia and told her he would be back in an hour.

Fabrizio's eyes cast down and he exhaled. "She hasn't cried—not in front of me. She doesn't want to show me her tears because she's trying to be strong. I think she's a' better now… I did not want to a' leave the house until I was sure she and my mama were OK."

They spent another half hour that evening, talking about anything that came to mind. Jack told him about the next contract he was going to sign, bigger than ever. Fabrizio could not resist being happy for him.

The remainder of the time as Jack observed his best friend, he saw in that same mature understanding he had seen in him the last time they had talked about the possibility of a draft. And as brave as Fabrizio really was, Jack could also tell of his heartbreak when it came to his family. It was no longer just _talk_; he actually _had_ to leave his family.

_First Albert. Then Fabri._ He gulped, wondering in the back of his mind if and _when_ his time would come, too.


	6. Weeping Willows

**A/N: **

**I hope the notification you guys got about a story update gave you all coronary… juussssst kiddin', ya'll! But seriously, I'd love to hear your reactions! 8-P**

**Whelp, it's great to be back! Thank you, oh loyal [and patient!] readership.**

**I think a recap is in order, and I say this with much embarrassment because I can't believe how long this has actually been collecting dust on the shelves.**

**For those of you who remember the happenings, feel free to skip past the line breaks:**

* * *

_**Titanic: A Life Journey**_** ended on a tone of uncertainty for the Dawsons' future because the situation of the war in Europe is starting to hit closer to home. In chapter 1 of **_**Titanic: A Life Journey II**_**, Jack gets a notice in the mail about the draft: all men have to register for it. Fabrizio's patriotic and cheery spirit during their chat has Jack questioning his own feelings about what it means to fight for your country, though it also means leaving your family. Chapter 2 opens with Rose proposing that they flee the country to avoid the conscription, which Jack disagrees with. Jack holds off registering for the draft because of the tension between him and Rose, up until the deadline. Rose is very upset out of fear for what could happen now to him and their family. Chapter 3: June and July were spent quietly, though they keep hearing of more and more being drafted. Jack and Rose find themselves on common ground again after divulging their own fears to one another, finally. In chapter 4, a mid-summer trip is taken back to Santa Monica. This seems to take their minds off the tension and uncertainties that were never too far from their thoughts. Prior to Albert's send-off date (he was drafted), a large farewell party is organized for him at his home. In private, Rose assures Albert that Nellie will be looked after in his absence. The last chapter opens with Rose working on a photo scrapbook. She reminisces about a heartbreaking discussion she has we Nellie after Albert left, then recalls Matthew's first day at school and realizes how much has changed over the years. Jack is thrilled that he's been requested to produce another collection of paintings. Last, Fabrizio breaks the news to them that he has been drafted. Jack and Rose are brought back down to reality – things are really started to hit close to home. Jack imagines it's only a matter of time before it **_**actually**_** hits home.**

* * *

**Before I send you off, I just wanted to give a massive shout out to my beta-reader, Frieda van den Huetten for being the best out there! Plus she's written some awesome fics, herself. :)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 6: Weeping Willows

Rose woke up early the next Saturday morning, two weekends after they found out Fabrizio was drafted. He was set to leave by train on the twentieth of October so it was important to all of them that their families spend some time together while the picture was still complete. A fun-filled day with family and friends at the park seemed to be the appropriate distraction.

Jack strode down the stairs from his shower while she watched over a batch of frying eggs in the skillet. The boys were already in their respectful seats at the kitchen table.

He came up from behind her and pecked her cheek, "You're cheery this morning." He could see the slight dimples in her cheeks appeared as she grinned in the middle of individually flipping over each egg. "Could last night have something to do with it?" he whispered in her ear only loud enough for her to hear as his arms snaked around her waist.

She let out a short giggle. "I guess that's partly it," she sighed contently.

"Hmm. Excited for the day too?"

She grinned again and looked at him with a shrug. "That too and—I don't know. I just feel… happy."

He looked at her for a moment as he considered in her words while she scooped the eggs into the plates, each with a slice of buttered bread. _Happy_, he thought, and even though he already was aware how truly happy she was with him, he felt relief. It had been over five years since he had made her an offer of a new life. Of one thing he was certain at the time: her life in _that_ world—one that he knew she was not meant for her when he saw her for who she really was—would be a life of unhappiness, loneliness and misery and she needed a way out. He was just unsure if he himself was the appropriate exit medium for her at the time; he knew full well that though she could live a happy life with considerably less fortune and doing what she enjoyed, she did not deserve to live in absolute poverty, as had clearly been his situation. He had just played the only card that he could think of in that moment. Not knowing where this card would lead them in the long-run, he had his own fears. If she accepted, would she turn out to get bored and unhappy with him when the novelty of being with _anyone_ different from her crowd wore off? _Happy_, he thought again, a grin tugging at his lips. "Good," he nodded once. "Me too."

She turned to momentarily caress his cheek in acknowledgement, evoking a sigh from him, before picking up two plates for the boys. He followed her with their two plates.

After meeting Fabrizio at his home, the Dawsons and the De Rossis left together to take the streetcar to Eastlake Park at the other end of the city for a picnic. They spent the sunny afternoon with a certain carefree, light-hearted ambience. Jack and Fabrizio started a game of tag with the boys. Rose, Sophia and Anna sat on a picnic blanket chatting. Sophia was keeping an eye on Isabella who lay sprawled on her little back wearing and a sun hat. All around was the bloom of autumn: the grass was the brightest green nature had to offer, dotted with large climbable trees and beautiful weeping willows that drooped over the shoreline of the nearby lake. The sounds were filled with distinct quacks emitted by ducks in the lake and the faint chatter of other park-goers in the vicinity. Jack had taken his sketchbook along with him – today was the perfect opportunity to get started on his new collection by drawing onto his surroundings and the people there for inspiration.

It took some mild persuasion on the part of young Matt for Rose to take part in a game of tag that had started among the kids and the men; he insisted that she was "it" and told her that she now had to catch him. With his pleas and large eyes filled with hope, Rose could not bear to decline.

Only a few minutes later did Fabrizio halt the game. Pulling out what looked like a strip of cloth, he folded it over several times before wrapping it around his head over his eyes. The modified game was now blindfold tag with set a set perimeter as the boundaries they had to remain within in the lush grassy field. Fabrizio reached his arms out and turned about, feeling the air around him for a solid body, all while taking cautious steps. At the same time, those fleeing taunted him with calls and noises to distract him, playfully teasing. Only within a few minutes was Fabrizio in fact closing in on Jack near the boundary. The rest seemed to find this particularly amusing and encouraged Fabrizio. "Jack's right there! Oh, you're so close, Fabri!" Rose called from the opposite end of the play area they outlined. The boys giggled and cheered, "Get him, uncle Zio!"

"Traitors!" Jack called back in mock betrayal. Fabrizio was closing in and Jack decided to make his move. Fabrizio anticipated correctly and managed to catch his shirt before he escaped at his fingertips. "Ha ha!" Fabrizio exclaimed. "Alright, alright," Jack gave in with good humour, and took the blindfold to cover his eyes with.

Rose took most opportunities she had to playfully tease Jack. This struck her as a perfect moment to mess with him. With a long slender stick found in the grass, Rose found she could manage to graze Jack lightly with the end of it, just out of his reach so he could not catch her. With every touch, Jack would twist his body in the direction of the graze to find his assailant just out of reach every time, much to his frustration. Of course he knew who it was – he could hear Rose constantly stifling her laughter. The others' giggles only encouraged her. "Rose! I know it's you." Yet she did not answer, rather preferring to continue with her playful antics.

The next time Jack felt the familiar graze across his legs, his anticipation allowed him to react quickly enough to yank the stick away yet without quite catching her.

"Ah ha! Defenseless now!"

Refusing to give up, she plucked a long string of grass, she snuck up behind him and made a bold move to tickle it across his ear. Jack's reflex to that sensation made Rose burst out laughing, and Jack managed to grab her. He pulled her right into his chest and wrapped his arms tightly around her so she could not escape. She was still laughing, although completely restricted to even move in Jack's grip. He lifted his blindfold over his forehead and smiled. Taking a lose strand of hair that framed her face, he tickled it across her ear playfully, mimicking what she had done to him.

"You think you're so sneaky."

"Oh I had you fooled, alright."

He scoffed, rolling his eyes, "I knew it was you. Besides, it was only a matter of time."

"Well it took you long enough to catch me anyway. I slipped away easily enough every time."

"_Almost_ every time," he grinned and slightly tightened his grip to make his point.

"Darn, I'll just have to pick a longer stick next time."

He released her. "Where is that stick anyway?" He picked it up from the grass and found it to be around the length of one of his own legs. "It's no wonder I couldn't even get to you; look at the size of this thing!" he exclaimed dangling it up high from an end.

She laughed.

"Oh yeah," he turned his attention to the others, "Thanks for letting her keep at it, guys! I thought we looked out for each other," he joked.

Fabri raised his hands in surrender, "Ah, but she made me promise my silence."

He raised his eyebrow at Rose. She clasped her hands behind her and shrugged her shoulders, though clearly proud of herself and what she had arranged. Glancing back at Fabri, he shook his head with a smile. Rose plucked the blindfold from atop his head, to Jack's surprise.

"My turn."

He felt a tug at the side of his trousers and looked down for find Paul at his side. He smiled and scooped him up. "How about we team up, huh? Piggyback?"

"Ya!" Paul responded in glee.

"My turn next?" Matthew asked.

"Mateo! Come be my partner, I'll give you piggy back too," Fabrizio called from across the field.

Jack ruffled the boys hair. "Sure thing, kiddo! Why don't you join your uncle for this round, okay?"

Later, after the game ended, they found themselves by the lake where Paul and Matthew had strayed, throwing rocks at the water, watching the splashes that resulted. Anna and Sophia came by the water's edge, Sophia holding eight-month-old Isabella's tiny hands in hers to help her balance on her feet. Fabrizio, with a huge grin on his face, crouched over with open arms. "Isabella!" he exclaimed, putting dramatic emphasis on each syllable. She smiled a toothy grin in response. Everyone watched as she took hesitant mechanical steps, her dark-haired curls delicately fluttering with the breeze. She stumbled clumsily into his arms and Sophia cheered her. "Bravo!" Anna clapped proudly. Fabrizio kissed her face, and pulling away, he noticed her grimace at the scruff that scratched her smooth baby's skin. He chuckled warmly, "_Papà ti ama_."

_Splash!_ was the background noise heard from Matthew and Paul's rock-throwing antics into the lake.

Fabrizio glanced over his shoulder at them, "Hey, _Ragazzi_! Come here and I show you something," he motioned with his head for them to approach. "Here, you sit by Isabella." So they did.

Fabrizio picked up a few small stones by the water. Jack smiled knowingly. "Ever skipped stones before?" he asked Rose.

Glancing back a few times between the two, she answered, "Once, but I wasn't very good. Why?"

"Bet you've never seen anyone skip stones as far as Fabri can," he nodded his head in Fabrizio's direction. They watched as Fabrizio leant to the side, practicing his aim by flicking his wrist. "Look, watch," Jack crouched beside the boys, guiding their attention towards Fabrizio. In a swift sweeping motion with his arm, Fabrizio released the smooth stone. The stone made several short skips over the water–more than ten, it seemed–before it disappeared under the water surface some distance away. "Whoa!" Matthew exclaimed. Fabrizio turned around and grinned boyishly at them. "How did you do that?" Matthew continued. "It's simple. Come, let me show you," Fabrizio urged as he approached the young boys and handed them each a stone. Paul immediately chucked his into the water, not understanding what he was supposed to do with it, though trying to mimic what he had just observed. Matthew listened to Fabrizio's instructions as they approached the water's edge.

Jack turned to Rose with his lips pressed together his eyebrows raised. "Impressive," she agreed.

"You want to give it a shot?" Jack offered.

"I'd like to see you do it first," she had a hint of challenge in her tone, to which Jack smiled appreciatively. But mostly, she just wanted to see Jack perform the skip out of curiosity. This was another page of Jack's childhood that was being revealed to her and she wanted to fully submerge herself in it.

"Okay," He paused before continuing, "After I show ya, you'll give it a try too, won't you?"

"Sure," she agreed.

After selecting the right stone, he approached the waterline and made a similar quick sweeping motion with his arm. They watched the stone make four large skips, already covering a lot of distance, followed by several progressively shorter skips before finally settling.

Rose's expression was clear surprise. "That was even better than Fabrizio's throw—I thought you said Fabrizio could skip them the farthest?"

Jack shrugged and corrected, "I said, you probably hadn't seen anyone skip them as far as Fabri."

"Until now. Now I've seen your skips," a smile slowly tugged at her lips. She couldn't put her finger on it, but right then and there, a sense of pride for simply knowing Jack overcame her. Nearly everything about him had captivated her the moment she met him and seeing another display of talent—a new part to him—just further painted the picture of Jack's being.

"Who taught you to skip stones?"

"My dad." He looked up at the sky, feeling the warmth of the afternoon Californian sun on his face before turning back to her. "We used to go on fishing trips ever since I was really little and would spend half an afternoon just showing me how to skip stones." He didn't miss the fascination on her face as he told her about these—what he thought to be common and typical—childhood activities. It was just another reminder of how much her childhood had lacked. He was always ready to remedy that by trying to bring back to life a piece of his to her.

He frowned.

"What?"

"You said you'd try after I'd throw."

She shook her head, remembering. Jack crouched by the shoreline, looking through the stones and dirt.

"Yes, I did say that." She bit the corner of her lip when Jack held out a smooth stone in his hand for her to use. Lifting her skirts, she closed the distance between them and took the stone he offered. She went over in her mind exactly how she had remembered Fabrizio and Jack doing the tossing movement while she figured out how to hold the stone.

The first attempt was a flunk; stone whipped straight into the water surface without ever making any skips but leaving behind it a "plop!" with gentle ripples.

"Ohh!" she exclaimed in disappointment. "It's much—"

"I know—it's harder than it looks." He handed her another perfect stone. "One more time, trust me," he grinned. "You'll get it this time."

She sighed and took the stone. "Will you check my technique?" she asked while gathering her skirts once again with her free hand. "You hold it this way, right?"

"Ahh, almost." He turned the stone to the proper position in her hand. "Like that?" "Yeah. Now watch closely. Then I want you to do the motion with me, alright?" She nodded, absorbed by his coaching. "Look—see what my wrist is doing there? See how I got my elbow bent and my arm like that?" "Mm hmm." "Yeah, so it's all in the flick; the flick is key." He tossed his stone. "See that? Try it."

She made a few practice motions with her arm, concentrating hard on performing it to Jack's demonstrations. "Good! That's pretty much it. Now the only way to really know if you're doing it right is to practice it," he encouraged.

She could feel his eyes watching her every move, knowing he was most likely judging the way she was going about it. Yet she was determined to prove she was not completely deprived of any sense of sport, athleticism—whatever you want to call it.

She took his encouragement as her cue and released the stone at the end of her flick. To her amazement, the stone managed three beautiful skips over the water before sinking and that was enough for her.

She looked over her shoulder, her ecstatic expression bright with satisfaction, "I take it I'm doing it right?"

"What did I tell ya!" he held out his hands in praise. He had to admit he was impressed she managed success on only the second throw.

Eventually, everyone made their way back to their picnicking area to lounge and snack, tired from the earlier activities. That was when Jack took up his sketching. He drew Fabrizio lounged on his side by his infant daughter, making faces at her, a portrait of Rose in conversation with Sophia, a snapshot moment of Matthew play-fighting with Paul, the bridge under the willows by the water, and a scene of two distant kite-flyers. The latter was stopped about three-quarters of the way when Jack came to the rescue of the pair whose kite had landed in a nearby willow. Matthew and Paul awed as their father nimbly climbed halfway up this large tree to retrieve the kite for the elderly man and the young girl, who appeared to be his grandchild. When Jack returned to Rose after the gentleman and the girl thanked him, Rose asked clearly teasing, "Anything you can't do?"

"Probably," he answered in the same teasing tone, "but I can't think of anything right now." He grinned at her and she tossed a crumpled napkin at him. "Hey now," he playfully warned. "I'm keeping your ego in check, mister!" He chuckled and grabbed his sketchpad. Stealing a peak at her, he noticed she was watching him and he winked at her.

By late afternoon, they were all on their way back to the east side by streetcar. It being around supper time, they decided to stop by a diner in town for burgers and fries. Already evening by the time they left the diner on fully satisfied stomachs, they walked back to the De Rossi home.

"You guys are welcome to have drinks with us at our place this evening if you'd like," Jack offered when they reached the front of the house, Rose nodding in agreement

Fabrizio looked at Sophia for an answer "Oh… Well Isabella has to go _dormire_."

That's when Anna interjected with her broken English and Italian, "You go, _resterò con Isabella._"

"_Sei sicuro, mama_?"

"S_ì, ora vai!_" she insisted, waving her arm as though shooing him. It was her Italian way of willing him to accept to the invitation.

Fabrizio gazed expectantly at Sophia, "Yes?" She shrugged happily and grinned in response. His smile grew, "OK, we will join you."

"Alright," Jack too was grinning. "Want us to wait up, or will ya meet us there?" Sophia lifted Isabella from her cozy pram so Fabrizio could carry it up the stairs inside the house.

He paused with the pram in front of the doorway, "No, no, don't wait. We meet you there in one hour."

"Sounds like a plan," he acknowledged, scooping Paul up and hoisting him to his back. He turned and tilted his head to see his face, "Paul, say bye-bye to Anna and Isabella!" He chuckled when Paul yawned and laid his hand on his shoulder.

Rose let out a giggle, "Someone missed his nap."

"I think they're going to bed too when we get home."

"_I'm_ not tired!" Matthew defended, tugging his mother's hand.

"Alright, we'll see," Rose brushed it off to avoid an outburst. She could tell he was on the edge of becoming cranky.

"We'll see you in a bit," Jack called back to Sophia and Fabrizio. Rose waved with her free hand. "G'bye!" Mathew exclaimed enthusiastically.

Jack changed Paul into his nightwear and set him to bed. Sleepy as he was, Paul's eyes closed the moment Jack pulled the covers to his chin. Meanwhile, Rose sat on the parlour room sofa with Matthew, now clad in pajamas as part of his evening routine. She was hoping to coax him to sleep with a story and fight as he might, Rose could see his eyes closing when he leaned his blond head against her side. Rose carried him up the stairs and put him to bed with his sound-asleep brother.

In the parlour room, Jack had taken spirits out from where it was stored in a furnishing's cabinet in the corner of the room. Rose answered the door when they heard several short knocks.

"Come in!" she greeted. "I'll take your coats. Jack's just taking out some drinks."

"_Grazie_," they thanked her and headed to the parlour room.

"Hey hey," Jack turned towards them, carrying a tray of a small selection of spirits bottles. "Make yourselves at home." Fabrizio and Sophia shared the main couch and Jack took a seat across from them in an arm chair.

"Where are the _bambinos_?" Fabrizio was looking around.

"They crashed." Jack dragged his chair closer to the short table where the drinks were. "Asleep nearly as soon as we got home it seemed."

"I guess it was a long day for them, yes?" Sophia noted, just as Rose entered the room and took her seat in the other arm chair.

"Yeah… Well, they'll usually nap a couple hours in the day too."

"Mm hmm," she acknowledged.

"So, what'll it be?" Jack exhaled audibly and clapped his hands together, gazing at the selection he'd brought out.

"What do you have?" Fabrizio asked curiously, rubbing the stubs of his chin.

"Take a look," Jack urged, handing over the bottle of gin for Fabrizio to read. Jack was already holding out to him a second bottle, "Actually, here take a look at that. You remember this stuff?"

"Irish whiskey," Fabrizio's eyes lit up and they looked at each other and laughed at the memory of past antics they shared overseas. "I'll have some of that!"

"Sure, sure," Jack replied, his laughter subsiding.

Rose and Sophia exchanged glances, Rose shaking her head with a chuckle. "Sophia, care for a sherry cobbler?" she offered.

"You can make that? I'd really love one, thank you."

Rose excused herself, "I'll go get the glasses."

"Want me to help you?"

"Don't be silly, you're the guest! Just relax and enjoy yourself," Rose motioned kindly to the sofa Sophia had been sitting on.

"If you say so," Sophia's smiled with warm brown eyes.

"Rose?" Jack offered.

"I'm fine, I've got it," she interrupted, already excitedly making her way back to the kitchen.

She pulled out two short glasses for the men and two narrower tall glasses for mixing her and Sophia's drinks. After bringing the two shorter glasses back to Jack and taking the bottle of sherry from the cabinet furnishing, she went back to the kitchen to mix the concoction. While she mixed the first one, that's when she noticed the short stack of yesterday's mail left on the counter. She meant to get to it the previous evening, but she'd been occupied and subsequently distracted.

As she waited for the two drinks to settle, she reached to the end of the kitchen counter to grab the stack. She pulled out a chair and took a seat at the kitchen table. Her hands flipped through the small stack, stopping at a particular envelope as she noted the sender's address. Carefully opening the seal and pulling the letter out, she unfolded it with shaky hands and began to read. Her breathing hitched and the sheet in her hands trembled more uncontrollably. She felt her throat ripple with strangled sobs and pressed her hand to her nose.

"Oh God, no… Not now… Please…"

* * *

**A/N: Don't forget to R&R...**


	7. Only for a Little While

**A/N: Once again, big thanks to ****Frieda van den Huetten**** for being my beta!**

* * *

Chapter 7: Only For a Little While

_Friday, October 26th, 1917_

It was a gloomy morning at the train station, seeming fitting for the despondence that was a common semblance amongst most of the bystanders' faces. Thick fog from the early morning had just begun to dissipate. Still, the tracks seemed to disappear into the greyness past the station platform.

It was crowded with families saying their goodbyes—it appeared that the majority of departures were men leaving for war. Amongst the crowd stood a small family; a little boy balanced on a young man's hip while the eldest stood staring up between his mother and father.

"Pa, where are you going again?" Matthew asked.

"Well, there's a faraway place called Europe—" Jack began.

"How far?" his green eyes where full of curiosity.

"As far as an ocean away, and then some," Jack responded dramatically, trying to keep it light.

"But why are you going?" he persisted.

Gathering her skirts, Rose crouched next to him. Ever patiently, she explained: "He's going away with all of these other men to help the people who live in Europe." Rose and Jack had agreed that Matt and Paul were too young to be told more than was necessary. Telling them their father would be fighting in a faraway land, regardless of whether it was for their country, Rose thought would be too much for them to grasp without frightening them. She sighed when she looked into his concerned eyes. "Haven't we told you this at least a dozen times before? You understand, darling?" She watched him nod his head slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. She glanced back up at Jack who just shrugged his shoulders before turning his attention to Paul.

"Do you know where your pop's going?"

"Over da ocean," Paul's tiny voice made it sound as though the reply was rehearsed. In part, it was well-remembered from having been re-explained so often. That was one thing that Jack and Rose wanted to be sure of, that his absence would not confuse them or make them too anxious.

"That's right," Jack encouraged. "I'm going away because…" his tone hinted for Paul to finish his sentence. Paul only grinned, and Jack became unsure if Paul was grasping anything, but he finished his thought anyway. "I'm going away to help the people who live there."

He felt Matt tug on his pant leg, "For how long, papa?"

"Ah," it was Jack's turn to crouch down next to him, placing Paul on his feet at the same time. He took them both by their shoulders. _I really don't know_, was the simplest response that came to Jack's mind, but he knew it wouldn't suffice for them. "It may be a little while. But you guys'll be so busy that I'll be back before you know it. Better yet, I'll be back before you can say Massachusetts."

"Mashatooshetts," Matthew attempted with a frown of concentration. Jack ruffled his hair and chuckled when he stood up, "Almost."

A loud blare sounded twice from the steam engine train. It was the first warning for departure. Jack took in a deep breath as he glanced at Rose, meeting her eyes.

Many had already boarded and the crowd had thinned out since the last time Rose noticed. She knew Jack would be leaving soon, but not before she made every last moment with him count, up to the very last second. As she took in his features, the realization that time was finally closing in set off emotions she'd been determined to keep at bay since earlier that morning.

Jack's hand instinctively found her waist when he saw the moisture in the corners of her eyes. He could see how hard she was fighting them and he took her in his arms. She immediately buried her face in his shoulder, letting her tears slip freely and all the while telling herself to stop.

"I'm sorry," she murmured in his ear, "I thought I was finished crying today. I wanted to be stronger for—"

"Shhh, calm," he murmured back soothingly and kissed her hair. "It's alright, Rose."

From over her shoulder, he could see the expression of confusion across both his sons' faces as they seemed to notice something was suddenly upsetting their mother. Frozen in place, all they could do was stare.

"Deep breath," Jack whispered against her, "and when you're ready, look at me."

She agreed—she wanted to spend her last moments looking at his face instead of blubbering so she willed herself to regain control of her emotions. Exhaling deeply, she gently pulled away.

"Oh Jack," she almost started crying all over again when she looked into his shining eyes.

"I know," his voice too broke with emotion. He could scarcely believe this was really happening, that he would soon not be able to feel her soft body mold in his arms like this, to see the blush in her cheeks when he made her smile, to hear her laugh, to smell her comforting scent, to feel the warmth of her smooth cheek...

Rose sniffed and looked down. "Here," she said, reaching into her coat pocket. Jack's gazed followed her hand as she pulled out a small one- by two-inch photograph of herself and held it between them. "Just something I thought you may want to have with you."

He took it and kissed the image, all while staring piercingly back into her eyes, and slipped it into this breast pocket. "I'll always keep it here," he patted the area over his heart and pressed another hand to her cheek.

Rose's eyes darted to his lips, the need to feel them once again on hers as her last comfort was overwhelming. Obeying her instincts, Rose leaned into him and tilted her head to press her lips against his. She felt him respond against her when a second hand came up to her other cheek. She savoured the softness his familiar lips, the warmth of his breath on her skin, and the way his hands tenderly cradled her face, his thumbs brushing her cheeks and fingers threaded in her hairline. For that moment, everything else was all of a sudden infinitesimal compared to the importance of the one in her arms. His lips slowed and she let her head roll back between his gentle hands in his safe embrace. He broke away within mere inches from her face. Breathless, she too pressed her palm to his hot cheek. He gazed all over her features, as though he were permanently burning the image of her face into his memory before leaning back in. With a final lingering brush of his lips to hers, she felt him pull back one last time. He reached for her hand on his face and Rose could feel his jaw flex under her palm when he gently squeezed her hand and pull it away, unspoken words passing between them.

She finally let him go so he could say his goodbyes to the two boys who had patiently waited, seeming to know better than to interrupt and let their father have his moment with their mother.

"You guys," he knelt in front of them and encircled them both in his arms, "I'm gonna miss you both so much," he kissed each of them back and forth several times, despite their eventual squirming as children do when overwhelmed with affection. "You know how much I love you?" It was more of a statement.

The horn suddenly blared again. "Final call for boarding!" a train steward's voice resonated throughout the station platform over the sound of the steam engine. With a last squeeze of the two, Jack stood up tall. He ran a hand to push the hair from his eyes as he picked up his large duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder. He looked over each of their faces, from the way Paul and Matthew's big round eyes looked at him to Rose's serene composed expression, her lips slightly parted. He couldn't believe that the next morning he wouldn't be waking up to the two mischievous boys bouncing on his bed over top of him, or to his Rose.

"I miss you already," Rose weakly smiled.

Exhaling deeply, he returned an approximation of a smile, which was the best he could manage at that point. It didn't make it any easier on anyone the longer he lingered to delay the inevitable. He just suddenly found himself having trouble commanding his body to move. Another deep breath and he finally said, "I'll write you the first moment I can. Goodbye." With that, he turned and began to take excruciating steps away from his family.

Matthew did not completely understand the gloom around him until the moment his father turned and began walking away. Without warning, a sensation of abandonment and anxiety swept through him.

With every step tearing him apart, Jack heard his eldest son's voice crisply amidst all other background sounds.

"Papa!" he called after him and Jack could hear that he was on the brink of tears. But he could not turn around now; it would only make things harder. It didn't help that the train was about to leave within the next minute. "Papa, don't go!" His son was in tears now. And then he felt a pair of tiny arms wrap around one of his legs. He stopped dead in his tracks and closed his eyes briefly. He himself was in tears; the ones that had been glistening, threatening to fall the whole time as he said goodbye to Rose and managed to hold back. His heart softened at his son's crying and his little body clinging to him so desperately. He quickly wiped a tear track from his own face and gazed down at his boy who stared back up at him with the most heartbreaking tear-stained face in Jack's eyes. He put his hand on his son's head and caressed it, that child he and Rose had almost lost years earlier. He knelt down in front of him and the boy flung himself onto his father, wrapping his arms tightly around his neck, with the most heart-wrenching sob that could possibly be heard from a child. "Don't go..." Jack pried his arms from around his neck and held both his tiny hands in one of his as his other held his son's much smaller face.

_It's goodbye for a little while, only for a little while. _

Jack now understood how that man felt when he was forcibly ripped away from his loved ones. It was a terrible, terrible thing, simply put. He'd go to hell and back if it meant taking away his child's pain.

"I promise you I'll come back." Jack eyes conveyed all the intensity of paternal affection towards the boy.

"You will papa," Matt told himself with his little voice still shook from tears. He faithfully believed his father with all the innocence of a child, which deeply touched Jack's heart.

He took his son's face into both his hands and wiped the tears away with his thumbs before looking at him squarely in the eyes and told him, "I promise—I'm coming back. I'll come home." He gave his son a final hug farewell before urging him back to his mother who herself had a fresh trail of tears down her cheek. She was holding Paul who had also sensed something was wrong and had become upset enough for Rose to pick him up. "Get on back to your mum." He let him go. "Love you," he murmured as he watched him run back into his mother's legs, hugging her fiercely in search for consolation.

Jack was one of the last men left on the platform who hustled to individual train carts when two train blares signaled the train was about to move. The engine let out a loud hiss of steam and had slowly started to chug forward. He arrived in time to toss his bag into one of the entranceways and then grabbed a side rail to help pull himself over the big step. He let himself hang out the entrance for a moment while the train was still moving slowly to raise his hand in a farewell gesture. Rose kissed her hand and grimly waved back until he had to duck away as the train left the station.

They'd left once the train had become completely out of sight. Rose took a hand from each of her boys and they walked out of the train station to hitch a cab home. Matthew was still sniffling tears in the car as he leaned against his mother for comfort. Rose wrapped her arm around him, soothingly smoothing his hair. Paul stared out the window, expressionless—it was as though he did not truly comprehend what had happened and how their lives would be different for now.

Although Rose knew the man in their lives was gone, nothing had noticeably changed that day: they went about their regular activities. It felt as though Jack was away at work. The boys seemed to have soon forgotten their father's departure as they spent the majority of the day playing. Rose was partially relieved: it wasn't something any child should have to face.

She managed to get through her day, thanks to her routines and tried to ignore the nagging voice in her mind that kept reminding her Jack would not be coming from as he would from work that evening. She'd promised herself the moment she found out he was drafted that no matter what, her priority was remaining a mother to her children and she could not afford for them to see her break down. It did not matter what she was going through; as long as she was in their presence, she had to remain a generous loving mother they deserved. She hated the thought of becoming a selfish woman sulking in her own grief. She re-discovered the courageous woman that was inside her to get through her day without thinking about her Jack being miles away.

It wasn't until that evening as she crawled under her covers and noticed the smoothened sheets on the other half of the bed, still undisturbed. It was then she realized she would be alone tonight. And many nights to follow.

All the tears that had been held back since the train station came cascading out. She wept silently, for the pain of knowing it would be so long before she saw him again, and even more for the anguish of the thought that she may not ever see him again.

Rolling to her side as the tears continued to silently fall, she slid a hand under her pillow to clutch it tighter. It was then her hand came in contact with something that had a papery texture. She was not surprised that that's what it was when she pulled it out, but only confused as to what it could be doing under her pillow. With her eyes adjusted to the moonlight that spilled through her window, she was able to make out Jack's handwriting on the small note:

_Thinking of you and missing you more than words._


End file.
